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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939375">Red and White Roses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallestCinnamonRoll/pseuds/TheSmallestCinnamonRoll'>TheSmallestCinnamonRoll</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Time, Coming Out, Death of a Parent, Depression, F/M, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Self-Harm, Still got the 1960s aesthetic though, Winter, birb, mentions of abuse, modern references, no corona</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:08:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallestCinnamonRoll/pseuds/TheSmallestCinnamonRoll</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny is probably in the worst stage of his life despite his father being in jail. It’s hard to be excited for an upcoming holiday when everything is going wrong and you have lost all hope.</p><p>Will things ever change? </p><p>Will he ever get better?</p><p>Au explanation: modern day with no virus, no financial issues, and more acceptance. The town still looks like it’s in the 1960s and the socs still have the same opinions. This will slowly become more noticeable.</p><p>(If you know me from either online or irl, I’m sorry.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darrel Curtis/Two-Bit Mathews, Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston, Sherri "Cherry" Valance/Dallas Winston, Sodapop Curtis/Steve Randle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Johnny Cade was the smallest of the small group of Greasers. The group consisted of 3 boys whose parents were killed in a car crash. Darrel Curtis was the oldest and often looked after the family when he wasn't at work. His brother, Sodapop Curtis, was the middle child. He worked at the nearby gas station, but spent most of his time flirting with the female customers since his girlfriend left.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ponyboy Curtis was the youngest brother and the youngest in the gang, which Darrel only let him in reluctantly on his fourteenth birthday. Johnny was the second youngest, now sixteen and Pony being fifteen. Dallas Winston was the toughest by far even if he wasn't the oldest. Why he moved from New York to a shitty town in Oklahoma is a mystery to anyone. Keith, whom they called Two-Bit, was eighteen and a professional thief. He'll give you something and say the shop owner gave him a discount. It's usually stolen, and probably beer even though none of the gang was old enough to legally drink it. Then there's Steve. Soda pops best friend since they were kids. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Johnny? Johnny, are you paying attention?" Soda said as he waved a hand in front of Johnny's face.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Hm? Yeah.." He replied, still off in his own world and staring at a scratch on the oak wood table. Two-Bit had started drawing on it a couple months ago to show Dally (Dallas) how sharp his new pocket knife was and Darrel gave him hell for it.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">How was Johnny supposed to pay attention? Finally, his abusive dad was in jail, but his mother fell ill recently and had to be hospitalized. She hadn't shown any signs of improvement and it was lonely in his house. He didn't have siblings and hated inviting people over. What was he supposed to show them? The hole his dad punch in the wall when Johnny got a bad grade in English? The broken cabinet he was thrown into when defending his mother from him? Maybe the busted door that his father kicked open and beat the hell out of him when a socialite's father said he was a faggot. There wasn't anything special about his house. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Never mind." Soda stood up and walked into the kitchen. "He's spacing out again Darrel."</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Is he high?" Two-bit replied, as Johnny heard the familiar click of another beer being opened. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"No, but you probably are." Dally said as he sat at the table with Johnny.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He propped his feet up on the table. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Wanna hear about this chick I saw at the drive-in last week?" He said as Ponyboy joined them at the table. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Why do you call girls chicks?" He said, sipping his cup of orange juice.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Cause chickens are meant to fu-" </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He was cut off by Darrel slapping the back of his head. Dally quickly turned around. "What the hell man!" He said as he rubbed the back of his head.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Don't say that, especially around Pony." </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Darrel replied, slipping his work shoes on.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"If I come back" he continued "and find that girl half naked on the couch I will literally let the hobos downtown roast you alive." Then he rushed off to his truck, clearly late for work.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Anyways, so this red-haired girl is working at the concession stand snd she has the brightest green eyes I've seen, right?" Dally began, acting like an old man telling their grandchildren how he met his wife. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"So she was pretty?" Pony said, completely invested at the idea of a new friend joining the gang.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Ok, so I'm flirting with her and all then I ask her if she wants to join the gang and get this.." </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He took a sip of cola for a dramatic effect.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"She's a Soc." Dally said, grinning as though they Soc's wouldn't beat their ass if they found out.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Soda and two-bit came barreling in. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"You tried to hook up with a Soc!?" Two-Bit practically screamed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"Bit louder, the neighbors can barely hear you." Dally said. He was obviously pissed at how loud Two-Bit was being. It was enough to give him a headache. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Johnny had heard enough and stood up. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">"I gotta go.." His voice barely above a whisper as he exited the Curtis household.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>No summary. Sorry. This chapter is short because I’ve been focusing on art lately and I’m trying my best to improve. I wasn’t concentrating at the end so the quality is probably gonna decrease as you read.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cold icy air hit Johnny as he stepped outside. It was almost mid-November and the weather was beginning to show that. A light snow was starting to coat the ground and he wished so badly that he’d worn his scarf. He gripped onto the railing and carefully made his way down the steps and started walking home. The snow had a quiet, almost inaudible crunch as his worn out sneaker hit the ground. His house wasn’t very far, but all his thoughts were there, and they would remain there when he got home. When he put his jacket away and searched the fridge for dinner. When he sat in the shower wondering if his mother would make it to Christmas. When he laid in his bed staring at the fading glow in the dark stars on his ceiling that Pony gave him. Johnny stepped in his house and watered his mother’s potted flowers. He didn’t inherit his mother’s green thumb, so they were losing their color and the burst of life they used to have. The sky began to darken and Johnny looked over at the piano in the living room. It’s been a while since it had been used and he wondered if he remember any songs, much less notes. He wished he had someone to play for. No one he knew would want to listen. He didn’t have the energy to play anyways. He should just go to bed and hope things get better. The gang would meet up again at the Curtis household and everything would be okay. Johnny tugged his shoes off and set them on the floor. Outside the window was a family of snow buntings sleeping peacefully. The leaves were covering them from the snow. Ode to be a bird. Flying carelessly in the wind. To be shot down by a hunter and bust open like a piñata. To finally escape the hell of the world and die. Johnny wanted to be a bird with beautiful feathers that were mesmerizing as he fly, but it was if someone clipped his wings and plucked his feathers. As he finally laid his head to rest on his pillow, he knew he would only be at peace for a few hours until another came where he worried and wondered if it was all worth it. Johnny closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Snowball fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment of confusion when you first wake up, a jumble of nonsense thoughts running through you mind before you realize you’re awake, came far too soon.<br/>He took a glance at his alarm clock. 8:30. He had some time to get ready before meeting the gang at Pony’s house.<br/>As he slowly got up he noticed that there was still a light snow outside. The birds must be sleeping since they were no where in sight. He put on the same outfit he wore everyday,  jeans, a t-shirt, and the jean jacket he had gotten for Christmas. He wrapped his scarf around him. Breakfast would hopefully be available at Pony’s house just like it always is. Johnny grabbed his later and a pack of cigarettes from his nightstand. It was so much better knowing that he didn’t have to hide them anymore. His Dad wouldn’t bother him anymore. If only the Socs could be that way then he wouldn’t have bruises constantly. The snow was just as beautiful as it was yesterday. He stepped outside and started walking to Pony’s. Even if it was a light snow, it was still cold as hell. The neighborhood didn’t look as sad when it was covered in snow. It felt alive. Though he never saw his neighbors often, he knew there was a lot of them. Maybe miles away, his mother could see the snow. <br/>Finally he made it to Pony’s house. He wipe the snow off his shoes on the door mat and opened the door.<br/>“Johnny! You’re just in time!” Two-Bit said with a wide grin.<br/>Johnny put his shoes by the door and hung up his scarf.<br/>“Dally is late again.” Soda said. He was clearly getting annoyed by Dally’s lack  of time management.<br/>Johnny sat next to Pony on the couch. “It’s freezing outside. I forgot my coat again. I was in such a rush.” He said, slightly resting his head on the back of the couch. He stared at the ceiling. Where could Dally be? Surely he wouldn’t skip out on the meet up.<br/>It was calm for a moment before Darrell was chasing after Two-Bit and Steve outside, who had been showing Soda a catalog about trucks. Soda raced to get on his shoes. “Tell us when Dally’s here unless you wanna end up in a snowball fight outside.” He said as rushed at the door with a huge grin.<br/>For a couple seconds, silence overtook the atmosphere and Johnny hated every second of it. Dally was never late. What if he lost him? He’s the one who helped him put his Dad in jail. He was the kindest person to Johnny and now a Christmas without him seemed like a nightmare. <br/>When Pony did end up speaking, Johnny almost jumped out of his skin. <br/>“So.. You never told us how the trial was.” He said in a gentle tone.<br/>How was the trial? He barely remembered any of it and it was just last week. It’s like he purposely forgot it. All he could remember was a dog someone had brought to comfort him, which helped a lot and gave him an excuse not to look at anyone, and his dad being sentenced to years in jail. It was safe for everyone really, but the point? Fading. He knew his mother would be home most of the time if she even made it and Johnny most certainly wouldn’t if she didn’t. <br/>“It was good...”<br/>“I don’t have to see him anymore.” <br/>That sentence out loud brought a small smile upon Johnny’s lips. At least there was one good thing that he could tell Dally. <br/>Pony grinned. “That bastard deserves it.” He said as he stood up.<br/>“I’m going to make sure they aren’t dead.”<br/>Then walked outside.<br/>It was eerily quiet. He didn’t like quiet. It was unnatural.<br/>His fingers began tapping a beat softly on the couch cushion to distract him.<br/>The door opened and he stopped tapping. <br/>Dally was standing in the doorway, smug as ever, in his usual leather jacket and gloves. <br/>“Heya Johnny. Where’s everyone at?”<br/>He spoke in a voice that was the most soothing thing to Johnny. <br/>“Outside, where have you been?”<br/>That’s when he noticed, there was a girl standing next to Dally.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Questionable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everything was going by so quickly. He let go and watched her heart monitor. Her heart rate was slowing more.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So he was serious; he wanted to be with her. His heart felt heavy. Jealousy engulfed him. He didn’t understand why he felt this way. Perhaps he wanted to protect Dally? Or maybe it was because Cherry was a Soc and managed to get with Dally. A part of him wanted to be in her position. He wanted to hold hands with Dally and be held at night during thunderstorms. That’s what friends did right? That wasn’t wrong or romantic.</p><p>“Been at work and cleaning up my apartment.”<br/>
Dally responded as he hung his jacket up and sat on the couch with Cherry. She had long red hair and green eyes that glistened like emeralds. He should find her attractive. He should want to be with her. She’s pretty and he can see that, but he just doesn’t find her attractive.</p><p>Could I be queer?<br/>
Johnny thought to himself.<br/>
That was ridiculous. He’s never had a crush on a guy, has he? What was a crush like? </p><p>His eyes drifted up towards Dally and Cherry who were flirting. His laughter made his heart skip a beat. Was that a crush? Did he have a crush on Dally? Did cherry get butterflies around him? He looked back at the floor. It wasn’t a crime to be gay anymore, but he was nonetheless terrified. The socs don’t enjoy the fact that it’s legal now. If they found out there was even a possibility of him being attracted to men, then he was done for. </p><p>Why do I have to question my sexuality now? I should be worrying about my mother instead..<br/>
His mind countered his emotions, trying to hide them away. He was selfish for thinking about that. Dally seemed happy and so did Cherry. He shouldn’t ruin their relationship just because he was jealous. He should visit her. The gang wouldn’t notice. What would they do anyways? Follow him? Yeah, because following someone to a hospital is a priority.<br/>
He quietly stood up and put on his scarf. He had been wearing it more and more since his mother got sick. It was a gift he received from her on his 16th birthday. Before he realized everything was going wrong. As he stepped outside, a chill went down his spine. It was getting colder. Cold weather means winter is coming. Winter means the holidays, something he wasn’t sure his mom would be able to even celebrate.<br/>
He began walking. Walking around town, alone, as a greaser, was always dangerous. Did anyone care though? Who is going to take time out of their day to beat up a kid in the freezing cold. What did it matter if someone attacked him anyways? His thoughts seemed to stop for a moment as he focused on remembering the route to the hospital. It was hard to ignore the screams of homeless people in the park nearby. He had met some really nice people there. A lot of them were addicts, but usually friendly. There were a few who were constantly out of it and violent. They scared him. Yelling scared him. Loud noises scared him. Fast movement scared him. Every time he heard someone shout he imagined how his dad was.</p><p>Before he knew it, he was standing in the doorway of his mother’s room. She looked tired and her heart rate had slowed since the last visit.</p><p>“Mi hijo..” her voice was raspy and weak. It hurt to see his mother in pain. He knew she wasn’t going to live very long. </p><p>“Mama..” he gave her a gentle hug. Was she going to die today? Was this the last time he’ll ever see her?</p><p>Everything was going by so quickly. He let go and watched her heart monitor. Her heart rate was slowing more.</p><p>He knew she only had a few minutes at most. As he pulled away, tears fell onto the bed. </p><p>“I love you mama..”<br/>Johnny held her hand as she died. With one last “I love you too..” and the long excruciating beep of a machine, she was gone. He couldn't even process her death before he was sitting in the cold outside, hoping the snow would swallow him or the wind would give him frostbite.<br/>What if he had never left? Would he not have been able to say goodbye? His mind swirled with questions and incomplete answers. Tears froze to his face and nobody batted an eye.</p><p>He had to leave soon. Didn’t he? Would anyone look for him? He stood up and looked up at the cloudy sky. If only someone was there to listen.<br/>No one would listen. No one cared. The gang had their own lives. They didn’t have to even pay attention to Johnny. He started the walk home and kept his scarf wrapped around him close.<br/>His hands were shaking and turning pink from the cold. The weather had changed so quickly and he wasn’t used to it. Everything was changing when it didn’t need to. Everything was fine the way it was. Why did she have to die <br/>today? Out of all the days it had to be today.<br/>He felt like crying more, but he just couldn’t..</p><p>It was as if something was preventing the tears and it hurt worse than the cause itself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for the kudos! I love you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Icy sidewalks.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Johnny goes home</p>
<p>(This is short I’m sorry!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His heart was entwining itself in thorns and he stepped in his house.<br/>Just this morning, he had sat in this living room saying to himself “she will get better..” over and over. How ironic is that? To say someone will get better then they die. Luck seemed to be in everyone else’s favorite except for his. Dally got a girlfriend, so he would probably leave. His mom just died. The gang was too busy with work and school. There was no one left. Was that selfish? If Johnny told the gang how he felt they would think he was being dramatic and think he’s weird.<br/>He could just keep it to himself.<br/>He could just bottle his emotions up.</p>
<p>What if he could do something about it without anybody seeing?</p>
<p>Something to take away the stress.</p>
<p>Something to distract him.</p>
<p>The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it became. Tomorrow he would figure something out. His eyes were aching and all he wanted was to sleep. As he slumped Into bed a world of everything he wanted became clear in his mind. No matter how many times he changed things in this world, the one thing that stayed was Dally and his mother. Everything was perfect in this world. Why couldn’t his world be like that? Would that even be possible? He would never have that world. Never.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Snowbirds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dally and Johnny finally have a moment, but not in the way Johnny wanted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Johnny opened his eyes things were different and he wasn’t alone.<br/>As he sat up he realized someone was next to him. Dallas. Dallas was there; sleeping in his bed. Why? Why was he here?<br/>He stood up slowly and Dallas opened his eyes.</p>
<p>“You’re awake..”<br/>He was so confused. How did Dally get in? When did he get in?<br/>“What are you doing here?” Johnny said, panic clear in his voice.<br/>“Johnny we’ve been living together for months..”<br/>Dally paused and looked at him worriedly.</p>
<p>“You didn’t have another nightmare, did you?..”</p>
<p>A nightmare. Was it all a nightmare?<br/>He hesitated and tried to collect his thoughts.<br/>None of it was real. He was safe at last.<br/>A sigh of relief escaped to his throat and he sat back down.<br/><br/>“Yeah. Bad one.”<br/><br/>“Wanna talk about it?”</p>
<p>“No..” He felt guilty for saying no, but Dally didn’t seem upset.</p>
<p>Arms wrapped around his torso which only led him to more confusion.<br/>He didn’t question Dally’s behavior. Despite the fact that he was usually never emotional.<br/>When did he move in? Why couldn’t he remember anything?<br/><br/>“Johnny?”<br/>Dallas ruffled his hair.</p>
<p>“You there?”<br/>Johnny looked up at him and smiled.<br/><br/>“Right here, Dally.”<br/>Snow was coating the trees outside and even though he couldn’t remember Dally moving in or anything, time hadn’t passed.<br/>The family of birds were still in their nest outside the window. As he cuddled Dally he wondered if this was all a dream. If it was all a dream, why did it feel so real? Was he really okay? After a life of suffering was he finally able to relax?<br/>He never thought about how nice it was in Dally’s arms until now. Any person who came across Dally would expect to be crushed if he ever gave them a hug, but he was surprisingly gentle. He was resting his head on Johnny’s shoulder even.<br/>It was odd. Even if they lived in the same house, it was still odd. This couldn’t be a dream could it?<br/>No, dreams didn’t feel so real. It was almost as if he could sense Dally’s emotion.<br/>His hands felt sweaty as Dally held them.<br/>It was perfect. He never thought any situation with him would be perfect, but this was the definition of it. As Dally went to give him a kiss on the cheek, he suddenly was laying down again. This time he was alone. This time, Dally was gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No, this is not the ending. Two updates in one week? (I think.) </p>
<p>Alright. I love you all so much and thank you for the kudos! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Engage with the pain as a motive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Johnny enters a dark place and ends up hurting himself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: This chapter contains morbid thoughts and self-harm. Please do not read if these are sensitive topics for you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you see a shard of glass on the ground, you avoid it in fear that it may harm you. When you see glass put together as a window or a piece of art, you admire its beauty and wish to have it. The glass that you admire now was once sand and ash. You don’t want just ash and sand. You make them into something. You don’t want to tell yourself that you have sand and ash, not glass. You do everything to change the sand and ash, yet it stays. You try ignoring it, but it only becomes more distracting. The sand scattered across your room and the ash covering the walls. It becomes more apparent that you will never acquire the glass. No matter what you do, the sand and ash stays. </p><p>We avoid reality, much like broken glass or sand and ash. In the end, we must face the sand and ash. In the end, you realize that even if you can make the glass, it is breakable. Everything and everyone is breakable. The force may differ, but it is nonetheless damaging. Pieces of the glass damage you and stay permanent. There will always be a reminder that the glass is broken and you will never get one like it again no matter how hard you try. Though you can replace the glass, the pieces remain permanent as no two are alike. It remains shattered with hope and excitement reduced to fragments. When the glass breaks, what do you do with it? Do you pick it up and let the sharp edges cut your skin open to reveal the depths of your soul? Do your thoughts change as the blood seeps out and crawls its way down your limbs? As tears fall from your eyes, knowing you failed, do they mix in with the blood? Blood. The thing helping you stay alive flows through your veins every moment. If you tear the skin, blood flows out. Losing blood would mean inevitable death. Dead. Death is horrifying, yet peaceful. Succumbing to the afterlife and letting the blood stop. Your worries and pain, gone. A new beginning. A new hope. </p><p>Would the others care if he shook hands with death? Would Dally care? A million scenarios ran through his head. He just needed a distraction. Something new. Something he could use to just breathe for once. He was slowly suffocating and he needed the fresh air. He sat up and stared outside, watching the birds huddle together in the cold snowy weather. </p><p>What could he do? How could he escape</p><p>Then he remembered it; his switchblade. He heard about people inflicting harm upon themselves as a distraction or punishment. One thing he had always wondered is whether it worked or not. It would go unnoticed, since it’s not like he walked around shirtless or anything. Would it hurt less than the pain from his father?<br/>
It’s just another thing to keep hidden. No one would ask questions and no one would care. Johnny shakily pulled out the switchblade from the pocket of his jacket. This shouldn’t be too hard, right? All he had to do was make sure not to hit an artery. He wasn’t trying to die. At least, not yet. Before he could register it, the switchblade was open and pressed against his arm. Near the elbow just to test it, he carefully dragged the blade across and let out a small shriek of pain. It stung, but it was oddly satisfying. After a couple more tries, he got up to wash the blood off his arm and his switchblade. This was really what he had turned to. Why couldn’t he just be happy? Everyone else seemed so cheerful and lively while he was just stuck. Trapped with no hope left. The people left were better off. He had to wait. He wanted to have one last Christmas before he left. One last goodbye on Christmas night. It would be over by New Years and everyone would move on. He just had to hold on till then. This would suffice for now.</p><p>A loud knock on the door caused Johnny to jump and start shaking. As he pocketed the knife and rolled down his sleeves, he wondered who it could be. He tugged on his sneakers and opened the door. </p><p>“Johnnycake! We’re having a get together at the Curtis house. You down for it?” Dally asked with that stupid yet somehow charming grin. He leaned against the door frame and Johnny suddenly realized how much he hated being so much shorter. Even if it was a few inches, it made him feel cornered, which he hated more than anything. He couldn’t come up with an excuse and it was right across the street.<br/>
“Yeah let me get my scarf…” Johnny replied, wondering how he was going to get through this.<br/>
He threw his scarf around his neck and stepped outside. Dally noticed how he locked the door when he closed it.<br/>
“Your ma on vacation or somethin’ like that?” He asked, noting how Johnny stiffened.</p><p>“Yeah.. somethin’ like that..” he replied quietly as they walked across the street, ignoring the possibility of someone deciding to drive in the middle of bumfuck, Oklahoma. This was going to go wrong, wasn’t it?<br/>
Dally couldn’t see the tears in Johnny’s eyes or sense how much he was hurting, could he?<br/>
Or was he ignoring it because he didn’t care?<br/>
Blinking away the tears rapidly, he followed Dally into the house.<br/>
“What’s up fuckers! I brought Johnnycake!” Dally yelled. Soda laughed because he knew Darrel would come in any moment to lecture him.<br/>
“Calm down, Dally.” Ponyboy chimed and immersed himself back into his book.<br/>
Johnny hung up his scarf, careful not to tear it, and sat on the couch.<br/>
He was just about to strike up a conversation with Ponyboy, when Darrel came barreling in.<br/>
“Dallas Winston!” His voice sounded angry, but it was obvious he was holding back a grin.<br/>
“Present!” Dally smirked as he sat down.<br/>
This was going to be chaotic.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My apologies for my long absence. This chapter is rather short, but hopefully I will have the motivation to right more soon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They say if you look long enough into someone’s eyes, you’ll see their soul. You’ll see their emotions and their thoughts. Everyone was vulnerable. Everyone has a weak spot. </p><p>As far as he knew, Johnny was the only one who had seen Dallas’ weak spot. That was something no one else could say. Dallas loved musicals. Theatre was something he would speak about for hours. The songs, the dialogue, the story, just everything was so fascinating to him. He wouldn’t talk to anyone about it except Johnny, so naturally, he spent hours doing so. Alas, Johnny could never have such luck. The gang knew almost everything about him. He had no secrets. That is, until now. They didn’t know about his mom, his thoughts, him questioning his sexuality, or what happened minutes ago. He know that everything would crash and explode at some point. It would ruin everything and he would be all alone. How much time did he have left? Months, weeks, or days even? What he would give to have one night with Dallas at a theatre or under the stars god knows where, but that would never happen. The gang had never given their stance on homosexuality and Johnny could only guess that Dallas was okay with it because some of his favorite actors were gay. There was always the possibility that he just didn’t know about their sexuality. Johnny couldn’t exactly come out and say he might be a homosexual in the middle of a conversation. He felt so guilty for not telling someone about what was going on, but everyone has secrets, right? </p><p>His eyes drifted over to where Soda and Steve were laughing at a TV show. Darry stood in the kitchen talking to Dallas and Twobit was pestering Pony as he tried to read. But, where was he? All alone in a chair brooding. No input on any conversations just sitting quietly. Hadn’t that been what he spent most of his life doing? Sitting and patiently waiting for an answer someday?</p><p>“Hey, Johnnycakes.” Dallas said as he sat on the floor next to the chair.<br/>
“Hello..” Johnny replied.<br/>
He stared at the pattern of the carpet, trying to think of something to say.<br/>
What more was there to say? How do you reach out for help when you just want to let go?</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Johnny remembers meeting Dallas.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am so sorry that this is so short, but I have been going through a depressive episode and have very little motivation. I hope you like it and thank you so much for waiting. I love all of you and stay safe. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We’re getting ready for a snowball fight soon. Two-bit wanted to watch an episode of that cartoon first.” Dallas grinned widely as he remembered their past snowball fights. It usually ended when they became too tired to run around or until Darrel went inside to make hot chocolate. They were always there for him, so why did he feel so alone? Why did he feel so useless and so weak? Dallas had always been so strong, but how? How does someone stay so positive?</p>
<p>He remembered when he met Dallas. The sky was a dark gray and the rain fell like teardrops. He was 11 years old. After a bad beating from his father he walked to the only place he knew where he was safe; the Curtis household. There was a new face this time. His hair fell in front of his face slightly and his eyes were filled with a strange warmth despite being the color of fresh ice. The panic that rose over the others as they noticed the bruises still burned in his mind as well as the pity that lay in the stranger’s eyes. His heart skipped a beat and he thought it was fear, but maybe it was something else after all. Maybe his father was right and all he was and ever will be is a dirty queer. Darrel’s parents helped bandage him and as hard as he tried to keep his head low, he couldn’t drift his eyes away from the boy.</p>
<p>The rain started to fall harder and the pain became more apparent. Dallas never left. He just watched him like a nurse when you’re sick and they’re not sure you’re gonna make it.</p>
<p>“You’re a tough kid.” He spoke quietly.</p>
<p>“Not really. I guess I’m just used to it now.” He had responded with a sad grin.</p>
<p>He would never forget the shock and anger that replaced the warmth in his eyes.<br/>“You shouldn’t.”</p>
<p>“Well, I am and there’s nothing anyone can do.” He just wanted to fall asleep. He was exhausted and didn’t want this new kid feeling sorry for him. <br/>Everyone was always sorry for him and he was always sorry. If he hadn't annoyed his dad then he wouldn’t be here. It was his fault. Why couldn’t anybody see that he was to blame?<br/>He was always the problem. A problem that couldn’t be fixed. Something that stuck to the bottom of your shoe until you scraped it off. </p>
<p>Gentle taps hit the roof and slowly slid down to the windows as it began to rain. Thunder was something he could not stand, much like any other loud noise, but he loved the rain. It was the most calming thing to him. Well, that and birds. <br/>He could feel Dally’s eyes on him and it chilled him like ice being thrown at him. <br/>“Are you going to sleep?” Dally said, fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket.<br/>“Yeah, I’m going to try..” Johnny answered, half-annoyed and half-grateful.</p>
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